


The Games We Play

by Slow_Burn_Sally



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell & Related Fandoms, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Dominance, Dubious Consent, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, I don't plan out my smut so I am estimating here, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Submission, Teasing, maybe a facial?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:15:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28049085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slow_Burn_Sally/pseuds/Slow_Burn_Sally
Summary: Childermass discovers that Lascelles desires him and decides to torture him with teases and sex games. PWP
Relationships: John Childermass/Henry Lascelles
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was in a Childercelles mood. Two chapters written. Not sure where I'm going with this, but figured putting it out there might motivate me to write more. 
> 
> I apologize in advance to poor Gilbert Norrell for using him as a device to get these two to play filthy, secret sex games with each other. As a reward, he gets to be none the wiser, and read to his heart's content.
> 
> This is not beta read, but feel free to take a stab at it if you want to Em! Sometimes I get impulsive and toss things on AO3 without asking my beta to go over it.

It took Childermass quite a while to discover that Mr. Lascelles wanted him. The man did such an admirable job of hiding his feelings behind a thick veneer of disgust and resentment that it was several months before Childermass had sensed the attraction beneath the hate. 

And it had been revealed to him by the most unlikely of coincidences. Lascelles had stayed late at Norrell’s working on changes to _The Friends Of English Magic_ and Norrell had offered him some wine. Norrell was not a very enthusiastic drinker, having a glass now and then at one of the many society dinners he attended, but rarely indulging, and so had needed to relieve himself of a few bottles of unimpressive vintages. Lascelles on the other hand, in a rare show of ambivalence over the quality of the wine, had indulged heartily. 

Childermass did not know why Lascelles had decided to drink nearly the entire bottle of claret, but regardless of the reason, the man was pink cheeked and slurring his words by the end of the evening. Norrell had left the room to fetch something from his private chambers, leaving Childermass alone with Lascelles while Childermass continued reshelving some of the books Norrell had taken down to peruse during the course of the day. It had taken Norrell an inordinate amount of time to fetch whatever it was he was after (he sometimes grew quite distracted), and so the two men were alone for some minutes.

Childermass had been up on Norrell’s rolling stairs, slotting a book into place upon one of the higher shelves, and as he’d descended, he happened to glance in Lascelles’ direction. He was so surprised by what he saw that he nearly lost his footing and fell.

Lascelles was lounging quite indecently in his armchair, his legs spread wide, one arm slung over the back of the chair. His cheeks were flushed, his mouth was gaping open slightly and his eyes, dark and smouldering, were half lidded. He was using the fingers of the hand that was not slung over the chair to gently stroke himself through his breeches, and his eyes were without a doubt roaming over Childermass’ body with a naked sort of hunger Childermass had not seen before. 

In a heartbeat, Lascelles, who while he was clearly quite inebriated, still had the good sense to realize that he had been caught, removed his hand and crossed his legs. He let his burning eyes slide away from Childermass and looked over toward Norrell’s desk, as if he hadn’t been looking at all. But, he had not been nearly quick enough, and Childermass felt a flush of triumph at seeing the man so exposed, his desires so nakedly displayed. 

He did not make any comment, for to do so would have probably caused a flash of anger and a confrontation of some sort, especially with the unpredictable man so soused, but he filed the knowledge away in his mind, just as he’d filed Norrell’s books away upon the shelf, just as he’d routinely committed many small pieces of interesting information to memory along his life’s travels. This information in particular was very interesting to him indeed. That Lascelles was aroused by Childermass’ body. That he was aroused to the point of touching himself furtively when he was too deep in his cups to adequately hide It, was titillating in the extreme. 

And of course the main reason why it was titillating was because Childermass also desired Lascelles. Even though he hated himself for it. Even though he was fairly certain he hated the man himself. And yet, there was something about Lascelles’ long, slender legs, and his copper hair and his white skin and his dark amber eyes that had always sparked a distinct feeling of sexual interest inside Childermass. And because Lascelles was a gentleman (if an unctuous, sycophantic, underhanded one), and because Childermass was nothing but a servant, (a fact Lascelles seemed to delight in reminding him of at every possible opportunity), _and_ because Childermass had never before seen the slightest indication that Lascelles fancied men in general, or Childermass in particular, there had been nothing to be done about this desire. 

But now, now that Childermass had seen Lascelles staring at him while lazily stroking his cock through his breeches, well, all of that had changed. Now Childermass knew he had an advantage he hadn’t known of before. He had power over Lascelles, and he planned on using it to its full advantage. 

He had to be certain though. He could not move further based on one perverse gentleman’s drunken fancies. He had to gather a bit more evidence. 

A few days later, an excellent opportunity presented itself. 

He encountered Lascelles alone in the hallway outside of Norrell’s study. Norrell was meeting with the ministers and had shut the door. A thing that Childermass knew from experience would make Lascelles techy and bored. The man was sitting in a chair, idly perusing a newspaper. The mobile lump in his jaw spoke of how he was grinding his teeth at not being invited in. 

Childermass sauntered up, leaned against the opposite wall and fixed Lascelles with a look he hoped would leave very little room for interpretation. 

“Anything I can help you with, Mr. Lascelles?” he asked, his words respectful, his tone tinged with just a hint of teasing flirtation. 

“I don’t need help from the likes of you,” Lascelles snapped, but not before Childermass saw him make a telltale sweep up and down Childermass’ body with his eyes. 

“From the state of you the other night, I’d say you were in need of something sir,” Childermass responded amicably. He kept his eyes upon Lascelles’ face, waiting for a reaction, and he was not disappointed. Lascelles’ dark eyes widened just a tiny bit, and his mouth fell open in shock. 

“How dare you address me this way!” he said, putting the paper down and getting swiftly to his feet, now glaring at Childermass. He was even more stunning when offended.

“I only said that it looked as if you were in need of something sir. Perhaps a drink? Something to eat. Something else to calm your nerves?” Childermass refused to be intimidated by Lascelles’ angry threats. Especially now that he’d seen evidence of the man’s inner lusts.

“I need nothing from you!” Lascelles spat. He took a step toward Childermass and stuck out his sharp chin in defiance. “You’re Norrell’s pet dog. You may run your little errands for him, but I’ll not accept anything from your grubby hands.” 

“Won’t you?” Childermass asked. He leaned further back against the wall and let his jacket fall open, placing an indolent hand upon his hip. He smiled at Lascelles, and Lascelles’ face went bright pink from the edge of his neck cloth to his copper hairline. “I think there’s quite a few things I could give you that you’d like very much,” Childermass said. 

Lascelles seemed unable to respond. He stammered out a few indignant noises, as if he were choking on something, but he couldn’t quite get out a coherent word before Childermass spoke again. “Look sir, you need not pretend to like me. I certainly do not like you. But pretending not to _desire_ me, that is a thing that will get neither of us anywhere useful. Perhaps you could benefit from admitting that much, and then we may proceed?”

Lascelles, still flushed in the face, his eyes still flinty with suppressed rage, seemed to pause nevertheless to consider Childermass’ words. “What is it exactly that you are implying?” he asked, the barest note of curiosity coloring his anger. 

“Let us partake in some diversions together,” Childermass suggested. He had to play this game very carefully. Too little boldness and Lascelles could hide behind a veil of denial. Too much boldness and Lascelles could accuse him of impropriety and make a fuss to Norrell. He had to tempt the man into agreeing to a tryst while still allowing him to save face. Like coaxing a wild animal from the forest with food in one’s hand. It would not do to lose a finger in the process. 

Lascelles frowned, but his eyes had again begun roaming over Childermass’ body with a fierce sort of hunger. “To which sort of diversions are you referring?” he asked, tone tinged with suspicion and intrigue in equal measure.

“Any sort you would like sir,” replied Childermass smoothly. “You strike me as a man of...how shall I put this... _broad_ tastes. There must be some sort of pleasing game we could play together.”

Lascelles was breathing harder now, his chest rising and falling more sharply beneath his snow white neck cloth and brocade waistcoat. He licked his lips and his dark eyes flicked up to Childermass’ face, as if to test his sincerity. “I...I cannot say,” he stammered out, clearly going through a sort of internal struggle. He wanted Childermass, and yet, he was unable to come out and admit it. Childermass decided to put him out of his misery.

“Very well then,” he said. “I shall suggest a thing, and all you need do is nod or shake your head to say yay or nay. Does that sound amenable to you?”

Lascelles nodded, eyes still wary, but clearly curious.

  
“Do you like to be the dominant partner when you take a lover?” Childermass decided to come out with it. Why continue to be indirect? 

Lascelles shook his head _no_

“Ah, then you prefer to be the one who submits?”

Lascelles paused for a brief moment and then nodded. Childermass could feel himself stiffening inside his breeches at just the unspoken recognition of the thing Lascelles wanted. For he himself was far more comfortable doing the dominating in these sorts of arrangements, and the thought of dominating Lascelles got him very excited indeed. 

“Do you like pain?” he asked. Lascelles nodded and Childermass had to swallow back a moan. He took a deep breath before continuing. 

“Do you like...humiliation...being called names...being forced to do things of a physical nature?”

Lascelles nodded again, and his eyes went glassy with lust and Childermass could have thrown him against the wall in that very moment, but he refrained from doing so. “Very well,” he said, pulling himself out of his lean. “That is plenty for me to mull over.” And with that, he turned and walked away. 

“Where are you going?!” Lascelles called out after him, clearly confused. Childermass smirked at the note of desperation in the man’s voice. 

“I shall return,” Childermass intoned as he rounded the corner and walked out of sight. What he didn’t tell Lascelles, was when. 


	2. Chapter 2

Childermass purposefully kept his distance from Lascelles for the rest of the day. He had plans for the other man, but he needed to set the stage first. He always adored playing these little lustful games with his chosen partners. Making them vibrate with anticipation before teasing them relentlessly until they begged for release. And it had been far too long since he’d had the opportunity to indulge himself. 

He could tell that Lascelles was the sort of man who had a dark side to his sexual tastes. Everything about him seemed tight and twisted up and full of wariness and suspicion, all masked by the smile of a charming gentleman. But his eyes were cold, and his smile always had a false echo to it. Lascelles was a man who lived inside a disguise. Childermass wanted very much to peel that disguise away and toy around with what lay beneath it. 

Their rather frank discussion outside of Norrell’s study had him so worked up however, that he had to go straightway to his rooms and pleasure himself before he could continue on with the day's tasks. Once he had come, gasping, spilling his seed into a rag he kept on hand just for this very purpose, he quickly washed up and returned to work. And still he had to relieve himself again before falling asleep that evening, thinking of what he’d like to do to Lascelles. 

He awoke the next day, his cock stiff and throbbing yet again, but this time, he refrained. He needed to bottle that energy, hold off on self pleasure, if he was truly to find the fuel and the motivation to play with Lascelles today. 

Like clockwork, Lascelles arrived for his daily hours-long conversation with Norrell and was shown to the study. Childermass stayed away until late morning, when he stepped into the room to see if Norrell had any new tasks for him to do. He purposefully did not look at Lascelles as he stood before Norrell’s desk, and he could feel the man’s eyes on him, could feel the coiled tension in Lascelles’ body as a result of Childermass’ presence. 

Norrell asked Childermass to relay a few requests to the cook for that night’s supper and asked Childermass to please write a few letters to some of Norrell’s new associates in government. Childermass went first to the kitchens to relay Norrell’s words to the cook, then back to the study, where he sat at his desk, a little removed from where the two men were talking and began to write.

That was all he did. He knew that at some point in the day, often on more than one occasion, Norrell would leave the room, either to use the privy, or to fetch something from his chambers so secret or well hidden that he would not even ask Childermass to go in search of it, and that was when he would make his move. 

Such an event occurred not more than half an hour later. Norrell excused himself, and said he would be back in a few minutes. Lascelles was sitting in a chair facing away from the door, toward Norrell’s and Childermass’ desks. As soon as the door shut behind Norrell, Childermass rose and walked over to Lascelles, who regarded him with wide, wary eyes. 

Childermass came and stood very close to Lascelles and looked down at him, smiling. “Would you like me to take my cock out?” he asked conversationally, and Lascelles gasped and affected what would have been a convincing expression of shocked impropriety, except that his eyes darted immediately down to glance at Childermass’ crotch, with obvious hunger reflected in their depths. 

“How dare you address me in such a manner! Why I should-”

“Yes or no Mr. Lascelles? Time is of the essence,” Childermass reminded him, his grin growing deeper. His cock had started to stiffen when Norrell announced that he’d need to leave the room, and by now, it was almost fully erect, a fact he hoped Lascelles could easily see from the tent in Childermass’ breeches.

Lascelles swallowed. Still glaring at Childermass, he nodded. 

Childermass quickly undid his breeches and pulled out his cock. He hefted it in his hand for a moment, letting Lascelles get a good look, then leaned forward and pressed the tip, hot and stiff, against Lascelles lips. 

Lascelles eyes were hard and dark with anger, but without hesitation, he slid Childermass’ cock into his mouth and engulfed him, almost to the hilt. His mouth was hot and slick and mobile, and Childermass could not help but let out a gasp of surprised pleasure. He’d had some idea that Lascelles was an experienced and adventurous lover, but hadn’t dreamed he’d respond to Childermass’ propositions so fully and so quickly. 

Lascelles eyes had slid closed and he was taking all of Childermass, until Childermass could feel himself circled in the grip of the back of the man’s throat. He looked so beautiful, with a few locks of bright red hair curling against his pale brow, face flushed with sudden heat. His lips were stretched pleasingly around Childermass’ girth as he sucked eagerly at the prick in his mouth. 

“Jesus, you’re a good cocksucker you are,” Childermass said, his voice gone suddenly quite rough. He experimented with a short, sharp slap to Lascelles face. “Did you like that? Do you like me slapping you about while you suck my cock?” he whispered. Lascelles moaned and virtually impaled himself. 

Childermass heard the creak of a familiar floorboard out in the hall that signified that Norrell was approaching, and so he pulled himself regretfully from the wet heat of Lascelles’ lips and tongue and did up his trousers, turning to walk away without a word. He sat back down behind his desk just as the door swung open and Norrell reentered the study. 

“Mr. Lascelles! See here, the book I mentioned to you on ancient runes! I do believe you asked about their significance when last we spoke.” From his cheerful tone (he was discussing books and so was therefore in a good mood) it was obvious that Norrell did not suspect that his servant had just had his cock inside the mouth of his advisor and collaborator, as he went back to his desk. 

Lascelles hastily wiped the back of his hand across his wet, bruised lips and was glaring at Childermass angrily. Childermass felt very happy indeed.

“Mr. Lascelles. You look quite flushed. Are you well?” asked Norrell.

“Yes Mr. Norrell sir,” Lascelles voice cracked just a little bit as he responded, and Childermass grinned to himself. “I am quite well, only it is a little warm in here today. Childermass,” Lascelles turned in his direction. “Would you be so kind as to open a window?” he smiled at Childermass in a way that would appear polite to Norrell, but Childermass could see the smirk beneath it. Exerting his power again was he? Childermass rose obediently and opened the window nearest him a crack. “Is this far enough Mr. Lascelles?” he asked, raising one eyebrow in Lascelles’ direction. “Or can you take more?”

“That’s quite enough,” Lascelles snapped, his cheeks coloring as the smirk flew away from his face. 

Childermass sauntered back to his table and sat back down, pleased at having one upped Lascelles again. 

The next hour or so for him was spent busily writing away while Norrell and Lascelles went over notes for the Friends and discussed politics and local gossip. Or rather, Lascelles discussed local gossip and Norrell nodded along without appearing to really listen while he perused his book on runes. 

At some point, Norrell excused himself again, and though the very knowledge that the two of them would soon be alone together made a spark of excitement flare inside Childermass’ belly, he did not react outwardly. It was too good an opportunity to torture Lascelles. 

Norrell left, and just as Childermass expected, Lascelles began to shift his chair. He cleared his throat. He sniffed loudly. He got up and shuffled some papers quite noisily upon the desk. Childermass could feel the man’s glare as if it were a physical thing. 

Childermass ignored him. He simply continued writing and kept his head down, waiting for what he knew would be coming soon. 

Finally, after clearing his throat and squirming about for a minute, Lascelles sighed dramatically. “Well?” he demanded.

Childermass didn’t bother looking up. “What is it Mr. Lascelles?” he asked, affecting a tone of unconcern. 

“I had thought. Well...it appears that Mr. Norrell has left us a second time,” Lascelles remarked stiffly, a bit of a pout making its way into Lascelles’ voice. 

“And…?” Childermass carefully trained his tone to reflect nothing more than neutral indifference as he continued to write, pausing periodically to dip his quill in the ink pot. 

“ _ And _ ? What do you mean  _ and _ ? I had thought perhaps you would wish to continue with our… little game?” the petulant note grew stronger. Lascelles was clearly a man who was used to being accommodate in matters of sexual gratification.

“No, I do not,” replied Childermass. “Not at the moment. It appears I have become quite absorbed in my work and do not wish to stop now.”

Lascelles huffed angrily, then he drew breath. Childermass readied himself for the onslaught. 

“You...you wretch! You horrible excuse for a man! How dare you treat me in such a fashion! I will have you sacked! I’ll-”

“Do shut up Mr. Lascelles,” Childermass cut him off with a stern command, keeping his eyes trained on the page in front of him. “You’ll do no such thing. You know you want more of me, and you know you won’t get it unless you play nicely with me, so please, calm yourself. And besides, Mr. Norrell is returning.” He sounded as if he were the soul of self assured confidence, but inside, he knew this was a pivotal moment and was quite nervous. If he had pushed too far, Lascelles could bring their whole arrangement crashing down with a few stinging words of retribution in the right ear. 

He dared glance up at Lascelles, and saw the man staring at him, his mouth gently agape. Childermass’ heart pounded in his ears as he heard Norrell’s footsteps approach the study door. Would Lascelles end it all? 

The door swung open, and Norrell entered, bearing his financial ledger. Even he was not quite able to ignore the tension in the room. 

“Is something the matter Mr. Lascelles? Childermass?” he looked back and forth between them.

Childermass held his breath. The next few seconds would determine whether or not he would be able to keep pursuing Lascelles, or be forced to defend himself against accusations of accosting the man, or worse. 

Lascelles turned to Norrell, and drew breath. Childermass flinched preemptively. 

“No, no sir, I am fine, I assure you. Mr. Childermass was just relating a terrible story to me about some highwaymen on the road to Cambridge, and it gave me quite a fright.” He turned and shot Childermass a resentful look and Childermass heaved a subtle sigh of relief. 

“Oh, I don’t recall hearing anything about any highwaymen. Do you plan to take a trip north?” Norrell had settled behind his desk, quite effectively put off the trail and none the wiser. 

“No, I do not. It was still quite the unsettling story.” Lascelles lied smoothly while he sat down opposite Norrell and threw Childermass a glare so sharp it could cut glass. 

“Childermass, do not attempt to entertain Mr. Lascelles with such outlandish, frightening tales,” Norrell scolded. “Just stick to writing your letters thank you very much.”

“Yes sir,” Childermass responded, being the soul of respectful obedience. He caught Lascelles’ eye and winked at him. Lascelles scowled. 

The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully. Several times, when Childermass looked up from his work, he found Lascelles staring at him, but the other man quickly looked away every time he was caught out. Childermass was very much enjoying the attention, as well as the memories of what his cock had felt like sunk inside Lascelles’ mouth. He furtively watched Lascelles’ lips as the man spoke, watched his mouth move, and the expression upon his face change as he talked to Norrell. His haughty tone. His high cheekbones, his clever eyes. Childermass was already haunted by the way the man’s pale face had looked beneath him, sucking him, those long lashes trembling against those pink cheeks. If he weren’t careful, he would be unable to stand up if Norrell were to ask for anything, for fear of displaying his erection to the other two men in the study. 

He concentrated again upon the letters before him, and managed to keep from flicking his eyes in Lascelles direction for another hour or so until supper. 

Norrell and Lascelles left the room to go dine together. With Lascelles gone, and Norrell none the wiser, Childermass was finally able to find some measure of relaxation. He had been very nervous for a moment that he had pushed Lascelles too far. But now that the other man had abstained from making a fuss, it was a good signal that he wanted to keep playing. Of course, he could easily accuse Childermass of something untoward behind his back, while alone with Norrell, but something about the eager way Lascelles had sucked him, told him this was unlikely.

Now that Lascelles had had a taste (a quite literal one), he would be back for more. Childermass was sure of it. 


	3. Chapter 3

His next opportunity to torture Lascelles came along only a few days later. The timing had to be just right. Lascelles needed to be alone, but not quite able to respond enough to take the physical contact as far as he might wish. 

Lascelles was sitting behind a desk that Norrell had set up some few feet from his own, specifically so that they could work together, and Childermass noticed that the desk was a large, solid one with a wooden front panel that hid the legs and lower half of a person’s body from prying eyes. It gave him a few very compelling ideas. 

Even more fortuitously, Norrell was very much absorbed in a newly acquired book that day, meaning that he could hardly be bothered to speak unless spoken to, and this also helped immeasurably with Childermass’ plans. 

Partway through the day, while all three men were busy working silently at their respective desks, Childermass rose and walked over to Lascelles. “Mr. Lascelles,” he said, in his most respectful tone. “I have received several editing suggestions in recent correspondences with the publisher about the advertisement for _The Friends of English Magic._ He claimed that the current wording, while grammatically correct, would not get the right message across to its readers _._ Would you mind if I went over them with you?”

Lascelles cast suspicious eyes up at him, frowning, clearly unsure what to say. Childermass gave him a look that spoke volumes. 

“Oh, yes, well if..if you wish,” Lascelles stammered out. Childermass quickly pulled over a nearby stool from in front of the closest bookshelf and sat beside Lascelles, sat close enough so that their thighs were brushing just a little under the desk. He placed a blank sheet of paper in front of Lascelles and pointed to the center of it.

“See here,” he intoned in an officiously. “The publisher brings up several proposed corrections to the wording.” As he said so, he laid one of his hands upon the top of Lascelles’ thigh and gave it a little squeeze. 

Lascelles jumped at the sudden contact, but he did not make a noise, other than a sharp, swift hiss of breath in through his nose, nor did he move away, which pleased Childermass immensely. He saw Lascelles’ eyes move over to look at Norrell, where the other man was sitting, head bent, still lost in the pages of a book he was reading, oblivious to the world. 

“Should I rub this one out and replace it with this?” Childermass asked. This of course pertained to nothing, since they were both looking at an empty sheet of paper. But Norrell did not know that, and they needed the facade of a writing task to cover for Childermass’ true intentions. 

“Yes, that sounds fair,” Lascelles responded, his breath coming a bit faster, playing along. Childermass moved his hand higher up on Lascelles’ leg, up close to the crease of where his leg met his crotch and squeezed again, knowing that his fingers were digging into the tender flesh of Lascelles’ inner thigh. Lascelles gasped softly but otherwise did not respond. 

“This part here,” Childermass continued conversationally, keeping his voice level and low, “he asked that we remove completely, and insert this new wording...here,” as Childermass spoke he let his fingers search blindly for Lascelles’ cock through his breeches. His questing fingertips soon found the warm cylinder of Lascelles’ stiffening erection and he rubbed lazily along the top of it with his thumb. 

Lascelles was panting softly now, making small whining noises in the back of his throat, faint ones that only Childermass could hear. Childermass’ own breeches quickly grew tighter at the sound of Lascelles’ arousal. A glance at Norrell showed that Childermass’ employer was none the wiser. His gaze stayed firmly down at the book in front of him. Childermass doubted that anything short of a thunderclap would distract Norrell from his reading. 

“I think though that _this_ part,” Childermass increased the pressure of his thumb just a little, pressing against the now rock hard flesh of Lascelles’ cock through his breeches and moving his thumb a bit faster, “could be inserted all the way down here,” he finished. Lascelles let out a little moan, and then slapped his hand over his mouth. His eyes flicked back over to Norrell’s desk, but saw the same thing Childermass had just seen. Norrell absorbed in his book and oblivious to what was unfolding between his editor and his man of business. 

Childermass pressed his palm against Lascelles’ hard member and rubbed in earnest and was pleased when Lascelles bucked a little against his hand. The man was clearly struggling to stay quiet. Childermass was also fully erect, and the feel of Lascelles’ prick, so thick and hard, hot and ready, separated from his hand by a thin layer or two of material had him throbbing with need. 

He had planned on only teasing Lascelles, getting him worked up and then going back to his own desk, but now, things had gotten heated very quickly. He wondered if he could make Lascelles spill inside his small clothes, and decided he’d love to try. “Here, let us read this passage silently together,” he said, keeping his voice steady with no small measure of will. “Then you may let me know if these corrections flow correctly within the body of the chapter.”

Lascelles nodded, though no one but Childermass was watching. He pressed his pelvis forward into the palm of Childermass’ hand and bit his lip. Childermass watched his face as he kept working Lascelles with his hand. The man’s cheeks were bright pink, a color that clashed charmingly with his copper hair. His lips were red from his biting them and he’d closed his eyes, focusing all of his concentration toward the feel of Childermass’ hot palm against his cock beneath the desk. 

Childermass gripped Lascelles’ cock with his fingers through the material and began to awkwardly, slowly jerk him, using the friction of the cloth to aid him in his work. Lascelles was panting softly, pressing his hips into Childermass’ hand, making tiny, high pitched noises. Childermass leaned in and placed his lips close to Lascelles’ ear.

“Be very quiet Mr. Lascelles,” he said in a ghost of a whisper. “If you’re very very quiet, I’ll let you finish.”

Lascelles tried to glare at him, but he was clearly too sexually excited to do a good job of it. His eyes burned like dark coals, his pupils were blown wide with lust. He took a long breath through his nose and gritted his teeth. Childermass increased his pace just a little, rubbing a little quicker, pressing a little harder. He wanted to unbutton Lascelles’ breeches and reach inside, to wrap his hand around the hot, tortured flesh of Lascelles’ prick and frig him off properly, but just the fact that he had to make do with this furtive, desperate motion through cloth had him beyond aroused. 

Lascelles was approaching his climax. Childermass could tell by the arrhythmic jerks of his hips, his almost soundless gasps coming faster. Neither of them had made much noise since this little game had started, and were unlikely to be discovered, but the very thought that they could be added an extra spark of excitement to the proceedings. 

Childermass moved his hand a bit faster, pressed a bit harder and he felt Lascelles finally stiffen next to him. Lascelles let out a few long bursts of air through his nose, coming as silently as he could, hips moving in little pulses against the palm of Childermass’ hand. Childermass, overcome with lust, but without the friction needed to join Lascelles, leaned in and placed a silent kiss against Lascelles’ burning cheek. He put his lips at Lascelles’ ear again and whispered, “that’s it sir. There you go,” and Lascelles whimpered before he could stop himself. 

Norrell cleared his throat and turned a page, but didn’t look up. Lascelles finished silently shuddering his way through his pleasure and his eyes flicked up and locked with Childermass’ for a moment. There was a dual message reflected in their depths. A flash of anger, tempered with a look of deep satisfaction. Childermass smiled. He was still rock hard, but that was easily remedied. He got up, pushed back his stool, and left the room, leaving Lascelles to sit in a pool of his own spend, flushed and debauched. 

He intended to go directly to his room to stroke himself off and clean up before returning to the study, but he hadn’t gotten more than a few paces from the study door before it opened behind him and Lascelles emerged. The man wore a determined look, and he quickly stepped up to Childermass and grabbed him by the upper arm, dragging him to a small broom closet near the front door. He pulled an unresisting Childermass into the closet and shut the door behind him and then he was in Childermass’ arms, crashing his mouth against Childermass’ in a desperate kiss, slamming both of them up against the door.. 

“You thought you could just leave me like that?” Lascelles asked in between rough kisses, his hands moving all over Childermass belly and legs and seeking out his cock through his breeches. He found it, and pressed there, making Childermass moan, before scrabbling at the fasteners. “You thought you could just get me off and walk away?” He succeeded in opening Childermass’ breeches, fell to his knees and took Childermass’ aching cock out and into his mouth in one smooth, slick motion. 

Childermass cried out softly and fell back against the door, his head hitting wood with a thud. “Oh fuck,” he moaned as Lascelles began sucking him with an enthusiasm and an intense focus he was unsure he’d ever experienced before. “Fuck, Jesus,” he swore again as Lascelles clever fingers found his ballsack and stroked it, tugging and tickling along with the hot wet motions of his mouth on Childermass’ cock. He worked whatever part of Childermass’ shaft he could not consume with his mouth with spit slicked strokes of his hand. 

It took only a few moments of Lascelles’ expert attentions before Childermass gripped Lascelles’ hair in both of his hands and exploded with a sharp cry. Being silent was not possible, not with the way Lascelles’ lips had dragged the pleasure out of him. He pulsed and pulsed, tightening his hands in Lascelles’ hair, hearing and feeling the man moaning around the prick in his mouth. When the spasms of his climax had at last loosened their hold upon him, he fell back against the door with his full weight, panting and wrung out. 

“Jesus,” he said again. “Where did you learn to do that?” 

“Nowhere,” Lascelles remarked, voice rough around the edges as he picked himself up off of his knees. “I do not learn, I _teach_.” And with that, he ran his hands through his hair to smooth it, pulled down his waistcoat and pushed Childermass aside. He swung the door open and left the closet without another word. 


End file.
